


Trouble

by unsettled



Category: RocknRolla (2008)
Genre: Face Slapping, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-17
Updated: 2010-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Aw, Uncle Arch, you spoil all my fun."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble

The night before Archy's last appeal, Len lets him take the night off, a little time to himself. He'd remember that, because it wasn't like Len to be understanding.

It doesn't matter; he can think of nothing that might distract him from what awaits. From the uncertainty. From the steadily growing feeling that he isn't going to wiggle his way out of this one. That all of Len's calling in favors won't be enough.

It's late, and he's done nothing but waste the hours brooding. There's a tick half heard at the window; he waits, listening, and it comes again. He parts the curtains, and standing on the edge of a yellowed pool of light is Johnny, with a handful of pebbles and a reckless grin.

Archy shakes his head; smiles to himself and opens the window. "You realize I've a door, Johnny. With a doorbell."

Johnny's grin grows. "And your point is? Let me in."

"Come to the door."

"Aw, Uncle Arch, you spoil all my fun." But he complies; when Archy opens the door a minute later, Johnny's standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, gangly and awkward and full of mischief. Archy invites him with a raised eyebrow and a nod. Johnny ambles in, pokes the corner of a painting and sets it swinging. "Got some new stuff since I was last here," he comments.

"Did you actually come 'ere for a reason, Johnny? Or just to torment me on what might be my last free night for a while?"

Johnny's smile turns sharp, brittle. "Your last night," he says softly, and then, "Well, what're you doing with it anyway? Sitting home alone, getting drunk? Sad, Archy."

Archy doesn't answer; it's disturbingly close to the truth. Ok, it is the truth, but that makes it sound a lot more pathetic. Johnny takes his silence for the confirmation it is, and the grin springs back into brilliance. "Well, wouldn't you rather spend time with me?"

"The list of people who'd admit to that is a very short one."

Johnny throws a mock glare over his shoulder as he wanders off down the hall. "But still, you're on it, aren't you?"

Archy follows him. Maybe Johnny wouldn't be his first choice to spend this time with, but- he's not a bad choice. A close second, maybe. There's always been something utterly irresistible about Johnny.

Johnny quickly commandeers Archy's chair; looks for a moment as though he's about to take over Archy's drink as well before Archy snatches it away. Johnny shrugs and pulls out a ragged cigarette instead, glancing around for a light.

Archy tosses him one. "You're too young to be poisoning yourself like that," he says. Johnny lights the cigarette, tosses back the lighter, and blows a plume of smoke towards the ceiling.

"Just following the sterling example set by my elders," he replies. Archy snorts.

He watches as Johnny curls up in his chair, smokes the cigarette with nervous, long drags, holding the smoke captive until his lungs must be burning, like he's needed this for hours, the lit end tracing meaningless lines as his hands tremble.

It's been weeks since he's laid eyes on Johnny, after the kid skeeved off from home again, and every time Archy sees him he looks skinnier and more tightly wound, more stretched out, like something's burning him up from the inside out.

"Look, Johnny, if they give me real time – you've got to behave yourself, yeah? I won't be there to pull you out of hot water, and your father…"

"Wouldn't lift a finger for me. I know, Arch."

Archy sighs, but he can't dispute the truth of Johnny's statement. "Johnny..."

"Don't worry, Uncle Arch. I can be good."

"Since when?"

Johnny grins at him, unrepentant. "Well, you never know." He sobers. "They can't give you real time, they can't. The old bastard will get you off; that's all he's good for. What would I do without you?"

That's exactly what I'm worried about. "Listen, even if they put me away - you can write. Visit me. You know I'll still be there."

"Yeah…" Johnny looks away. "But- it's not… I mean-"

There's a moment of strained silence, filled by all the things they can't bring themselves to say. Can't bring themselves to admit they want to say.

Archy breaks the silence. "You'd better get back to wherever you're crashing. Sleep." Johnny rolls his eyes. "Hey, I want to see you there in the morning. So get some rest, you little hooligan."

"Yes, Uncle Arch," Johnny says in his most obnoxious sing-song voice, and Archy feels a grin spreading across his face. Johnny grins back, with only an edge of anxiety.

"Come 'ere," Archy says. "Give me a hug before you go."

He wraps his arms around Johnny, who feels even thinner than he looks. "And while you're being good," he adds, "start eating again. You're too skinny. I don't want to find out you wasted away while I was gone."

Johnny wrinkles his nose, then sticks his tongue out at Archy, who laughs, tightly. He waits for Johnny to pull away, but the kid doesn't. Instead, Johnny leans in little closer, stares up at Archy with the oddest expression. "What?" Archy asks.

Johnny shakes his head, then takes a deep breathe. Darts in, and presses his lips to Archy's.

For a second, it's… Archy doesn't want to put an end to it. Wants to tug Johnny closer and steal his breath, push him up against the wall and ravish him, be able to pull away and see Johnny panting and flushed and hard, hear him moan as he begs for Archy to fuck him, fuck him until neither one of them can take any more. Wants to give himself a fucking fantastic memory of this night.

But … so much for being good. He jerks back, ignores the pleading look in Johnny's eyes and favors him with an Archy slap.

Johnny reels back, eyes wide and stunned, betrayed. "I thought," he starts, but Archy cuts him off.

"You don't know what you're thinking. God, Johnny, watch yourself. If Len ever caught you..."

Johnny's chin comes up. "Oh, of course. If Len saw. Loyal as always. Yeah, I get it."

Archy stares him down. "Get yourself clean, Johnny. Then we'll talk. I've no interest in something fucked up. You're supposed to stay out of trouble, not go looking for it."

Johnny twitches. "I'll show you fucked up," he snarls, and turns on his heel, tears out of there like he doesn't know what he's running from.

Archy almost follows. Almost stops him. Doesn't.

*

In the morning, all the familiar faces are there - some for support, others, to see how hard Archy would fall. All the faces except the one he wants to see. When they announce his time, he feels- there's a lead weight in him, crushing the relief he should have for a sentence cut nearly in half. Four years? Four years? In four years, Johnny would be- the things that could go wrong…

He asks Len afterward if he'd seen Johnny. Len gives him an incredulous look. "Since when do I ever know where the little fucker is? Anyway, he's buggered off again. Good riddance."

Archy shrugs it off, laughs it off; accepts sympathetic handshakes and promises good for when he came out. Thanks Len for getting his sentence lightened. He knows Len's hand at work.

Tries to ignore the lingering taste of smoke on his lips.


End file.
